Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1887-05-12

when they played "ali around the
merry pole" and Doc sat and watched
her.
These were stirring times. Men and
women shattered the letters OF conven-
tionality and grew from boys to men
and from girls to women with marvel
Gus rapidity.
At candy-pulling Doc pulled candy
with her. The way of it was that they
all played Lonesome" and as they
needed one more to be the lonesome
one." and he was induced, much
against his will, to join. His success
emboldened him, and so the boy and
the girl pulled candy, and both were
so painfully conscious of their own
youthfulness that they pulled in silence.
Lucy's brother John was nearly
eighteen. He was a dutifuI boy and
his mother was widow. He worked
for her and for Lucy and they lived
well.
Again spring gladdened the earth
with her spirituelle beauty. But there
was not as much boisterousness at the
annual "log-rolling" as usual. In
fact, there were very few log-rollings.
Mothers and daughters and younger
sons pulled the fallen trees together
the best they could and burned them.
Women in big sunbonnets. kept from
Topping over their eyes by wooden
.'splits" inserted in the crown. grasped
the pillow handles, while ''tucking
strings girded about their waists kept
the skirts from trailing in the dirt.
All, they were made of superior mettle,
these women of the barrens were.
That spring we had to work great
deal harder and had less time for
fishing than before. Doc helped US
He was industrious, though still a
weakling compared with other lads.
The first time I saw him twirl q
strand of golden love vine over his
amused. Doc told me that he had
named it Lucy Paxton" and if it
grew he would know that she loved
him. and if not he would be disap-
pointed. He was getting too deep for
our philosophy then.
A whole year rolled away, and on
the next spring the love vine reap
peared and grew on the bushes. Doc
saw it too, and he was pleased-great-
ly pleased. He was not an ardent
lover. He worshipped at distance.
The young fellows who came home on
furloughs were very gallant and defer
entail toward Lucy. This must have
| worried Doc, but he never gave any
sign.
Then came that call for men; that
plucking of the very flower of Southern
chivalry. o, remorseless war!
John Paxton was eighteen, and he
must go to the war and leave his
mother and Lucy to fight the harder
battle at home. The ''enrolling Of
ficer," that agent of war whose APP
proach was dreaded so much, he told US
that
When he left Doc followed him out
to the gate. After short talk the of
ficer departed after shaking Doc by the
hand.
eve learned somethin'." he said,
with a radiant face, when he came
back. 1.-The enrolling officer says that
John can stay at home if he can get a
substitute. I'm gwine to be his sub
stitute."
Of course John Paxton did not want
to agree to the proposition. 1t looked
unmanly for him to stay and send il
little fellow like Doc, but the latter
argued: 81 amt got nobody to keer
for, an if 1 get hurt nobody'l be the
loser. You've got Mis- Paxton and
and-Lucy," he stammered, IAN you
ought to stay an make the crap. Be-
sides, want to git to be big Giner'l
some time, maybe, an then, rll-rn
well, 1 want to go. anyhow. an I'm
gwine as your substitute" And he
went.
Poor little Doci Friend and play
mate of our childhood. His delicate
form that had been so nourished and
cherished by his doting mother-and
our mother had loved him as one of
her own-when they brought him home.
wasted with privation and hardship,
and the hectic fever burned on his
cheeks, he looked very much like our
little old Doe. 1t was springtime again
then. There was lull in the wild
tempest of war. Bronzed and bearded
our heroes came home. Bowed with
defeat, tattered and torn, ragged vet
Grams of Il hundred battles. There
were so many heroic deeds that the re-
cital of daring achievements grew
commonplace. They did not like tc
talk about it. Our Doc had been every
inch soldier. He had acquitted him
self nobly. He was going to die, as so
many stronger men had died, without
stain on his fair escutcheon. 1t was
Lucy Paxton's hand that plucked the
sweet bouquets which found their way
to his feeble hands. 1t was her mother
who sat with our mother and counted